


Serendipity

by how_about_no



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Cutting, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, NONE AU, Niall-centric, Sad, Sad Niall, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, but he good, i guess, it has a happy ending guys don't worry, zayn is hella selfish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:18:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_about_no/pseuds/how_about_no
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were signs that something was wrong. Red flags everywhere, showing that there was more going on that met the eye. Niall isn't okay, and he hasn't been for a long time.</p><p>or</p><p>Niall reads, taking in each sentence and strumming a random tune to see if it fits in his head.<br/>“Our hearts intertwined are as pure as the richest gold,” He reads aloud, pursing his lips, “These are beautiful, Zayn.”<br/>“You mean that?” Zayn rubs the back of his neck, smiling shyly. Niall loves it when he does that.<br/>He searches out Zayn’s gaze, holding it for a moment, knowing it’s the one thing that gets Zayn to really listen to what he says next.<br/>“You should write from your heart more often, because this is amazing. It’s gorgeous, like you,” He winks before turning back to his guitar, looking down at the strings with a blush high on his cheeks, “But it’s not very ‘One Direction’.”<br/>“Guess I’ll save it for when I go solo.” Zayn jokes, and they both laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> there is an implied attempt at suicide, graphic descriptions of cutting, and mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts throughout
> 
> It has a happy ending though so dw

There were signs that something was wrong. Red flags everywhere, showing that there was more going on that met the eye.

“You guys are going on in a few minutes.” Harry looked over to the stage hand that had peered their head into the boys’ changing room. They all murmured their thanks and Harry looked back in the mirror to check his hair was in place.

He should have seen Niall’s bouncing knee on the sofa behind him. He should have known it wasn’t the same as Louis’ nail biting next to him.

“Nervous?” He asked them with an eyebrow raised. Both of their heads snapped to him and he smiled at Louis’ glare.

“Shut up,” Louis pursed his lips, “You know he has to ask me the most about Zayn and it’s bloody awkward.” Niall just nodded, not really looking at any of them.

“James is great,” Harry got up and walked over to Louis, crouching in front of him and putting a hand on his knee, “It’s an awkward situation but he’ll handle it so well. You’ll be fine, love.”

“Really,” Liam agreed on the other side of the room, “It’ll be great. There’s the dodgeball sketch to relieve tension and James is a funny guy,” He shrugged, “Could be a laugh.”

“Could be.” Niall nodded, frowning at his still bouncing knee.

“You alright?” Harry squeezed Louis’ knee once before turning his attention to Niall.

“Fine,” Niall answered, Harry should’ve noticed it was too quick, “Just awkward, like Louis said.”

“It’ll be fine.” Harry assured them all again, “We’re great without Zayn, we work better, even.”

“Right.” Niall scoffed, but it went unnoticed.

“We can talk about how I’m a single pringle,” Louis smiled, “One step closer.”

“One step closer,” Harry agreed, his stomach setting alight, “From how far we’ve come and what they’ve done, I’d say it’s huge progress.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Niall muttered, Harry turned to him with a frown but Liam started talking before he could pick him up on it.

“Got that meeting next week,” Liam pretended to box Louis’ side as he walked up to the mirror, fiddling with his fringe, “More progress.”

“Why do we even need a meeting about it?” Niall said abruptly, voice raised, “You should just be able to say ‘fuck it’ and tweet each other. It’s not a love declaration to make eye contact.”

“Might as well be, with these two,” Liam looked at them fondly and Harry smiled back, “Heart eyes everywhere, I could choke on it.”

“We aren’t that bad.” Louis insisted but then he glanced at Harry and his face completely changed. Harry had learned that look over the years, and it never got old, never changed.

“We are.” Harry laughed. The stage hand appeared again, holding one hand to their headphones.

“Ready?” She gestured for them to come out, “Time to go.”

“Game face.” Niall muttered to himself, too quiet for the other boys to hear, but Harry was directly next to him.

“It’ll be fine.” Harry put a hand on his shoulder, missing the way Niall flinched at the contact.

 

They eventually filed out of the studio, tired but buzzed from the feeling of it finally being over. Their first interview without Zayn. Harry rubbed his hands down his face, smiling at Louis through his fingers. He was allowed, after all, they went out the back way so there weren’t any cameras. Louis smiled back at him, slightly smug, as if he was the one telling Harry it would all be alright instead of the other way round.

“Drinks at our place?” Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and nudged Liam with his shoulder, “We could do with a wind down, and I definitely can’t sleep right now.”

“I’m down for that.” Liam nodded.

“I think I’m going to call it a night, actually.” Niall shoved his hands in his pockets, “Not feelin’ well.”

“Oh,” Harry looked at him. He was a bit pale, with bags under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping, “You sure you don’t want to come? You don’t have to drink, we can just watch a few films.”

“Nah,” Niall shook his head, trying for a smile that Harry fell for at the time, “I’ll see you lads next Friday at the meeting, yeah?”

“See you.” Louis waved him off without so much of a second glance, but Harry watched him walk away, watched the way his shoulders hunched and steam flew behind him when he sighed.

He should’ve known something was wrong right then, but he got in the car and drove away, only the thought of a glass of wine on his mind.

*

_November 2013_

_It’s raining outside. Niall can hear the patter of raindrops on the windows, and watches them tumble down the pane and into the puddle forming at the bottom. He strums gently on the guitar in his lap, not really making a tune, just running his thumbs over the strings to make a gentle sound._

_“Freshly brewed.” Zayn sits down next to him in the conservatory of his mum’s house, placing two cups of tea on the table in front them. The steam swirls into the air like the flames of a candle, and Niall looks at Zayn with a cheeky smile._

_“Better be Yorkshire.” His thumb stops moving, so only the sounds of the rain and their breathing fill the small room._

_“Only the best for you, Niall.” Zayn chuckles, bringing his legs up to cross them on the sofa they share. He cups his mug in his hands and blows gently, sending the steam into the middle of the room._

_“What have you got for me, then?” Niall shuffles slightly, excited to see what Zayn has been working on. Though they are a band, all the boys write some things of their own in their spare time. Niall does so the least, as he isn’t much of a lyric man. He prefers to make the music behind the lyrics, make up tunes while the other boys hum along and fit their lyrics in._

_“Been working on this for a bit,” Zayn takes a sip of his tea before setting it down and picking up his brown, leather-bound journal instead. “It’s still a work in progress so I could use your help.”_

_“I’m not a poet like you,” Niall shakes his head, laughing lightly, “If I try write alongside your lyrical genius, it’ll be like comparing Telletubbies to Shakespeare.”_

_“Hey,” Zayn raises an eyebrow, “The Telletubbies is beautifully written. I’ll ask you to take that back.”_

_“Alright, Bradford bad boy, show me your words.” Niall smiles, stroking the strings again, making the dust of the room vibrate with noise._

_He always admires how gently Zayn handles his book. Zayn does most things gently, but he touches the book like it could fall apart from just a heavy breath within a few inches of it. He opens it reverently and wonders through the pages until he finds what he needs._

_“Okay,” Zayn says, holding it out for Niall to see, “It’s not my best, but it’s quite- um- personal, I guess._

_Niall reads, taking in each sentence and strumming a random tune to see if it fits in his head._

_“_ Our hearts intertwined are as pure as the richest gold, _” He reads aloud, pursing his lips, “These are beautiful, Zayn.”_

_“You mean that?” Zayn rubs the back of his neck, smiling shyly. Niall loves it when he does that._

_He searches out Zayn’s gaze, holding it for a moment, knowing it’s the one thing that gets Zayn to really listen to what he says next._

_“You should write from your heart more often, because this is amazing. It’s gorgeous, like you,” He winks before turning back to his guitar, looking down at the strings with a blush high on his cheeks, “But it’s not very ‘One Direction’.”_

_“Guess I’ll save it for when I go solo.” Zayn jokes, and they both laugh._

_“As if you’ll ever leave me.” Niall flutters his eyelashes._

_“I could never leave you, Niall.” Zayn says, and Niall believes it._

*

Liam pulled his vest top from his skin and wafted it to try cool himself down. He wiped the back of his hand over his forehead and looked to Niall next to him, not only wearing a T Shirt, but also a hoodie.

“Aren’t you warm?” Liam almost panted, very tempted to just take off his shirt.

He managed to get Niall out of his house to go for a run with him, but immediately regretted it when he realised how hot it was. It felt rude to cancel when Niall had already agreed, so there they were, running down the street, Liam melting while Niall went redder and redder but refused to take off his hoodie.

 “No,” Niall huffed, “Just still not feeling well.”

Liam should have asked. He should have known that was a lie.

“And you agreed to come for a run with me?” Liam shook his head, “You’re a mad man.”

“You got me.” Niall stopped, putting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily.

“Want to stop now?” Liam asked, seeing Niall panting, but not the flinches of pain. He took deep breaths and ran a hand through his hair.

“No,” Niall straightened and bit his lip, adjusting the material over his shoulder, “Let’s go.”

Niall started sprinting away from Liam, his hoodie pulling over his shoulders, his breath hitching. Liam started running too, catching up with Niall quickly as he goes for runs more often than Niall does.

“You alright?” Liam managed to get out between breaths.

“Never been better.” Niall pushes through gritted teeth.

Liam should have seen that the run wasn’t the only thing Niall was pushing himself through.

*

_January 2012_

_Niall is almost drifting off when there’s a gentle hand on his shoulder. He snuffles against his pillow and tries to ignore it, hoping to get a good night’s sleep._

_“Niall,” Zayn’s low voice floats into the bunk, soft as silk, “I know you’re awake, you snore.”_

_“I’m definitely asleep.” Niall replies, keeping his eyes firmly closed. He hears Zayn chuckle and smiles to himself. “What will you be having me doing in the middle of the fuckin’ night, Malik?”_

_“Going on an adventure!” Zayn whisper shouts, then cheers softly._

_“I’m not the adventuring type.” Niall squeezes his eyes shut, knowing he will have to cherish this peace as he’ll get out of bed for Zayn eventually. It’s ridiculous how whipped he is even though they aren’t in a relationship._

_“You’re the_ me _type, though,” Zayn says, “You’ll come out here eventually, I know you will.”_

_“God damn you and your charm.” Niall mutters before throwing his duvet back and climbing out of bed, forgoing putting normal clothes on and just slipping on some shoes. He gets warm pretty easily, so he doesn’t bother with putting any layers on over his pyjama top._

_“Morning.” Zayn smirks, looking Niall up and down when he straightens a moment later. Niall narrows his eyes at him._

_“Only fucking just,” He rolls his eyes, “What time is it?”_

_“3, now let’s go.” Zayn heads off down the corridor, and Niall scurries to follow, pulling the curtain shut over his bunk. Zayn is ahead of him, and Niall sees he’s also in his pyjamas, choosing not to wear a jacket too. His trousers are bright red and his top is white, making his dark skin glow in the dim light, “I have red and pink, what should I draw?”_

_“Oh,” Niall nods, now understanding why he was woken up, “We’re going on a graffiti trip again?” Zayn nods, “Red and pink…” He hums in thought, “What about my arse?”_

_“Inspired idea.” Zayn chuckles, opening the bus door and climbing down the steps, holding it open for Niall._

_“I like this alley,” Niall comments when they arrive at Zayn’s chosen wall, “It’s the kind of alley people get raped in.”_

_“I’m glad you get that vibe.” Zayn shakes the cans in his hands, and Niall is mesmerised by the movements of his wrists. He crouches down and sprays two curves, like an upside down heart, in the pink. Then he sprays some red in the bottom of the curves and leans back to admire his work._

_“Is that my ass?” Niall raises his eyebrows._

_“It is.” Zayn nods before moving his hand next to it, and spraying letter after letter, spelling out a word._

_‘Serendipity’_

_“What does that mean?” Niall asks, sitting down next to Zayn, staring at the word slowly drying to permanency on the wall._

_“Us.” Zayn smiles at him before falling and ending up sat down, like Niall._

_“Gimme,” Niall makes grabby hands for one of the cans, and Zayn hands him the red one, “I feel like we should have one the right way up.” He sprays a crude heart onto the wall next to the depiction of his arse, then puts the can down to admire his handiwork._

_“It’s beautiful.” Zayn puts a hand on Niall’s knee, giving it a squeeze before just resting it there like he does any time Niall is nervous or scared._

_“Just like us.” Niall smiles and leans his head on Zayn’s shoulder, closing his eyes, content with just sitting here until the sun comes up, though he knows they have to go back soon._

*

Louis hated their meetings with management. Since the beginning, he had been the one to keep the most contact with them. He wasn’t confident with his voice so he decided to take the leading role instead, the funny one and the business man. It made him feel useful, to write emails and pass on messages. He regretted it now, as he was the one that had to convince the other boys to do something management wanted.

It was getting harder and harder to do so.

Liam had started to take the brunt of it lately. He answered the awkward questions, did the denying interviews, and threw fans off the ‘Larry’ trail.

It was hard for all of them.

He should have known that Niall was just as affected by it as they were. He should have seen the pain.

“They’re going to try convince us to stay.” Harry paced in front of the sofa Louis and Liam were sat on, Niall alone on the armchair to the side. They were in the little waiting room outside the conference room, and it always gave Louis goose bumps. It’s clinical, like a waiting room in the dentist, “We have to be strong, but not too strong, because then they’ll start a smear campaign.”

“This is so stupid.” Louis put his head in his hands, “I can’t believe we have to risk upending our careers just because of our relationship.”

“It _is_ stupid.” Niall spat, “It’s bloody ridiculous.”

“We know that,” Liam said calmly, putting a hand on Louis’ back, “But they do things weirdly in the music industry. We just have to play along until we can leave.”

“Exactly.” Harry waved a hand at him, going to sit down on the other empty chair, “We can’t just leave, as much as I’d like to.”

“Boys,” The secretary, Aaron, walked into the room and smiled at them, but it felt cold, “They’re ready to see you now.”

Louis looked at the pictures on the wall as they walked up to the conference room, seeing one or two of them, winning an award or a screen cap of a single. He had a bitter taste in his mouth when he saw that there were none where he and Harry are next to each other.

“Listen now,” Mark leant his hands on the big glass table that took up the centre of the room, “We don’t want you doing anything rash, there’s no reason for you to be leaving.”

“You may believe that,” Louis looked at him smoothly, feeling his business demeanour take over, “But we think differently, and, in the end, it is our decision to make.”

The rest of the boys stayed silent, though Niall’s knee was bouncing under the table and his thumb was being bitten raw.

“Well, since you’re not gone yet, I can still ask something of you, yes?” Mark tried to sound calm, but Louis could see the anger behind his eyes. It was simmering inside Louis too, but he kept it under control as a meeting room really wasn’t the place for an outburst.

He should have known that he was better at handling these situations than others.

“We can discuss it, I suppose.” Louis kept his face neutral.

“I want a little outing,” Mark made a face like it was nothing to ask, “Harry, you’ll be seen with a model, so we can up her profile while also keeping you ‘active’ in the dating market.”

“Keep him straight, you mean.” Niall said it under his breath but all eyes turned to him, and the room went silent.

“What was that?” Mark’s anger looked barely contained and Louis wanted to leap in front of Niall like taking a bullet.

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying-” Louis started to defend but Niall interrupted him, looking mad with confidence.

“No, I do.” Niall leant forward on the desk with a glint in his eye, “You have been fucking with our lives for years. You stopped me from having knee surgery, stopped Harry and Louis from so much as _looking_ at each other where anyone could see. _Fuck,_ Zayn left because of all this! Stop pussy footing! Say what you’re doing! You’re a sick motherfucker, and I won’t sit back and act like that’s okay!” Niall heaved a breath, “You play God, then act like a neutral leader. You screw _everything_ up, then act like you’re the one having the clean up the mess it leaves. Even the fans, as young as they can get, know you’re all pieces of shit, so just admit it! Don’t wear a suit and tie, and pretend you’re a business man when all you are is a malicious bully with a yacht.”

“Niall-” Louis tried to stop him, eyes wide, but Niall stood up with a red face and clenched fists.

“Do you have any idea what the things you do to us _actually_ do to us?” He rubbed a hand over his face, “We aren’t your fucking puppets! We’re real people, like you! How would you like it if I told you not to interact with your wife in public? Told you that the hip replacement you need will have to wait until the end of the year?” Niall pushed his seat away with the back of his thighs, “What if I worked you to the bone since you were a fucking teenager, then acted surprised and non-comprehending when you said you wanted to leave?!” He stormed to the door and took a deep breath before turning back for the last time, “Good day, and fuck you, you absolute cunt.”

Louis should have known that it wasn’t just a random outburst when he apologised to Mark, who didn’t seem affected at all, and yelled at Niall for being an idiot when he caught up to him in the carpark.

He should’ve paid more attention to how quickly Niall went back home once he was done shouting, instead of focusing on the calming hand Harry put on his shoulder.

*

_August 2010_

_“What’s shaking may-laking?” Niall slides into the kitchen of the bungalow in his socks. The discovery of the slippery floor was a great one. Zayn turns to him from where he was making what smells like hot chocolate on the hob._

_“It’s Malik.” He states with a raised eyebrow._

_“I know that,” Niall rolls his eyes, leaning on the counter, “But it doesn’t rhyme, so I had to change it.”_

_“You can’t just change my surname.” Zayn stirs the mixture in the pan with a small smile, and Niall sidles up next to him, just so he can be closer, not because he needs to._

_“I just did.” He quickly sticks a finger in the liquid and pulls it out just as fast, not having realised how hot it was, “Ouch.” He groans and sucks on it, not noticing how Zayn’s eyes linger there._

_“It’s on the hob, it’s hot.”_

_“Could’ve said that a minute ago.” Niall mumbles around his finger._

_“I could have done a lot of things.” Zayn says fake wistfully and Niall punches him in the shoulder._

_“Hey,” He jumps up to sit on the counter and wiggles a bit to get comfortable, “Louis and Harry, eh? They’re totally going to be a thing.”_

_“You think Harry and Louis are going to bang?” Zayn looks slightly uncomfortable._

_“Bang,” Niall starts counting on his fingers, “Cuddle, kiss, get married, have twelve babies, all called Niall junior.”_

_“What?” Zayn looks up, confused, and Niall just stares at him._

_“I mean,” He clears his throat, “You’re okay with that, right? Guys liking guys?”_

_“Of course.” Zayn nods seriously, stirring his hot chocolate._

_“Good,” Niall rubs his clammy hands down his thighs to dry them, “Because I like guys.”_

_“I didn’t think I did,” Zayn purses his lips and looks up at him through his lashes, his brown eyes so much more pure than the processed cocoa in the pan, “But I’m starting to.”_

_Niall is just about to ask what he means when Harry and Louis run in, in fits of giggles, seeming to be in the middle of a tickle fight._

_“I am not giving you my hair, Lou!” Harry screeches, protecting his sides, “It’s impossible!”_

_“Give me it! Give me it! Give me it!” Louis starts to chant, chasing Harry around the kitchen and eventually tackling him to the ground with a mighty roar, like a kitten._

_“See?” Niall raises an eyebrow, and Zayn just smiles at him, then curses when he realises his hot chocolate is burning._

*

Liam carefully dodged Louis trying to hit him with water with a playful smile, still singing and somehow managing to stay in tune. He ran across the stage, towards Niall.

“Protect me!” He yelled as he got closer, and Niall smiled at him, still playing his guitar.

“Don’t bring him to me!” Niall squealed and backed away, just as Louis caught up to Liam and poured a whole bottle of water down the back of his top.

“You little-” He stopped himself from swearing, remembering the young ears.

“I’m not little!” Louis started walking backwards slowly with a teasing smile, “I’m 5’9.”

“Using that again, Tommo.” Niall raised an eyebrow, starting to play the chords for the next song. Harry didn’t say anything, as because it was involving Louis, he wasn’t allowed to comment. Liam looked to him and saw that he was interacting with some fans on the other side of the stage, so it wasn’t all bad.

“I will use it,” Louis tilted his head, “As it is my height.”

“Sure.” Liam scoffed, and shoved Niall’s shoulder playfully. Niall flinched violently and let out a hiss of a breath through his teeth, “You alright, mate?” Liam said away from the microphone so the audience didn’t here.

“Yeah, just sensitive is all.” Niall nodded at him before quickly walking away and addressing the crowd, joining Harry in getting them to clap and cheer.

Liam shouldn’t have shrugged and walked over to Louis for revenge. He should have remembered all the times Niall fell and didn’t even blink, every time he dropped something and moaned a bit then carried on. He should have known that Niall isn’t just ‘sensitive’.

*

_December 2010_

_Niall paces back and forth backstage, chewing on his thumbnail and trying not to psyche himself up._

_“You’re psyching yourself up.” Zayn states, watching him move with amusement, fiddling with the tape on his microphone._

_“Actually,” Niall stops and faces him, “That’s exactly what I’m trying_ not _to do.”_

_“You’re failing.” Zayn laughs lightly, then pats the seat next to him, “Come sit and calm down.”_

_His feet drag as he drops into the seat, and he wipes his hands down his thighs to dry them. Zayn watches him in silence, which has sort of become a thing for them at this point. They ground each other somehow. Niall always feels calmer just with Zayn next to him, feeling the boy’s gaze on him keeps Niall from going insane._

_“They love us, you know.” Zayn starts but Niall waves him off._

_“I don’t need a pep talk.”_

_“You clearly do,” Zayn sighs and waits for a reply, then continues when all Niall does is fall silent, “They love us, they are here to see_ us, _not some perfect boyband that never makes mistakes. If they saw us on the X Factor, they know how goofy and ridiculous we are.”_

_“What about the people here to see a perfect boyband?” Niall asks, voice shaking._

_“We don’t care about them,” Zayn shakes his head, “Because we aren’t that, and we never will be. There’s no use dwelling on those who expect too much of us.”_

_“What if those people are the ones in charge?” Niall looks at him, and they both think of the meeting where they were assigned their ‘roles’._

_“We don’t care about them either.” Zayn holds his gaze until someone tells them they need to line up by the stage entrance._

_They find Louis and Harry already there, standing hand in hand, looking like they’ve just come out from snogging in a cupboard somewhere. Louis kisses Harry on the cheek and Niall smiles at them, knowing no matter how hard things get, those two will be a steady light in the dark._

_“You can hold my hand if you want.” Zayn whispers, holding his hand out, palm up._

_“I don’t need to.” Niall insists, then a stage hand talks into their earpieces._

_“You’re on in 5, 4-”_

_Niall grabs his hand._

_“Here we go.” Zayn says excitedly, bouncing on his tiptoes._

_“Into the wilderness.” Niall starts to feel giddy, squeezing the other boy’s hand._

_“Go now!” Comes through Niall’s earpiece and they run on, full of adrenaline and childish hope._

*

Louis was playing Mario Kart with Harry, whom was being a sore loser and purposefully driving around the track the wrong way just to piss him off.

“Just drive normally!” Louis shouted, swerving out of the way of a mushroom.

“No point,” Harry shrugged, “I’m going to lose anyway.”

“That’s not how this works!” Louis narrowed his eyes at the screen, “You don’t lose on purpose; you lose because you’re shit. Then I can gloat.”

“You see,” Harry raised an eyebrow in the corner of Louis’ eye, “This is why I don’t like playing video games with you.”

“You’re just a sore loser.” Louis scoffed, just when there was a buzz in his pocket. Then another, which meant someone was ringing him. He groaned and pressed pause on the Wii.

“Hello,” Louis put on his formal voice, in case it was someone important, “Louis Tomlinson speaking.”

“Hey, mate,” Zayn’s voice trickled down the line and Louis froze. None of them had spoken to Zayn since he left, not even Louis.

“What do you want?” Louis didn’t try to keep the anger out of his tone.

“I called to ask about Niall.” Zayn said hesitantly, probably twiddling his thumbs or fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Ask him.” Louis snapped, seeing Harry staring at him where he was still sat with the wheel in his hand. ‘Who is it?’ he mouthed, pointing at the phone. ‘Zayn’ Louis mouthed back, and Harry’s jaw dropped.

“Something’s up with him,” Zayn ignored his comment, sounding jittery, “I watched you guys on the Late Late show and I just know something is off? I’m worried.”

“You have no right to worry, _mate,”_ Louis said bitterly, “You haven’t spoken to any of us in months, and suddenly you call because you’re ‘concerned’ about Niall? The interview with James Corden was two months ago, you’re a bit late.”

“I know,” Zayn sighed, “I’ve been putting off doing this, actually. But I’ve seen some videos from concerts and I just know something isn’t right.”

“No,” Louis started, keeping his voice smooth and neutral, “Something isn’t right. One of our best friends left us to carry on our fight with one less ally and didn’t even look back.”

“Louis-”

“Goodbye, Zayn.” Louis hung up and let out a breath.

“What was that about?” Harry asked with a concerned line in his brow.

“Nothing.” Louis pressed play and continued to kick Harry’s ass, though the other boy cast him a curious glance every so often.

He should have focused on what Zayn was saying, instead of the fact that it was _Zayn._ Louis should have known that he was right.

*

_February 2012_

_Niall watches the wall on the other side of the room and holds Zayn as he shakes in his arms. It’s been like this for at least an hour now, Zayn having come into his room and just said ‘My aunt’s dead’ before collapsing onto him in tears. Emotions aren’t one of the things Zayn handles smoothly, he isn’t very good at keeping himself under control when he’s feeling something the situation doesn’t cater for. Niall knows that Zayn doesn’t like letting himself get like this, but he’s glad he gets to see the rare vulnerability under the cool exterior._

_“I’m sorry.” Zayn sniffles into Niall’s t shirt, and he grimaces at the wet patch forming in the fabric._

_“Nothing to be sorry for.” He says anyway, finding he doesn’t really mind._

_“I don’t know how I’m going to on stage like this.” Zayn looks up at Niall, his eyes glistening with tears, and his cheeks shining with them._

_“Don’t.” Is all Niall replies, only just resisting swiping his thumb over the wet trails._

_“What?” Zayn frowns, wiping them away himself._

_“If you feel like shit, go home.” Niall purses his lips, “You’re not in the right mind to perform in front of so many people, so get some rest, and mourn.”_

_“I can’t,” Zayn shakes his head, “I’m needed here.”_

_“You should be your own priority.”_

_“What about you?” Zayn blinks slowly, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks that capture Niall’s attention._

_“You’re crazy if you think you’ll escape my phone calls every night. You’ll be more bored of me from that than being around me 24/7 here.”_

_“Thanks.” Zayn gives him a small smile, and Niall cheers slightly in his head at being the one to cause it._

_“I’ve got your back.”_

_“And I’ve got yours,” Zayn rests his head on Niall’s chest and closes his eyes, “I’ll always be here if you need me.”_

_“I don’t doubt it.” Niall replies, but Zayn is already asleep._

*

Harry found Liam in the hotel bar, playing pool with Sandy and Dan. He gestured for him to follow and Liam must have seen the urgency on his face because he immediately followed. He knew something was happening with Niall. He had stopped smiling as often, started wearing long sleeved tops and avoiding going out with them, even when it involved karaoke, which Niall loves more than anything.

“I’m worried about him, you know?” Harry looked at them both, at Liam sat on the bed and Louis next to him, having already been in there when Harry came in with Liam.

“He seems off, yeah,” Liam nodded, “But this is Niall we’re talking about. If anyone can get through anything with a smile on his face, it’s him.”

“Honestly, if anyone were to notice something like this, it would be Zayn.” Harry let his gaze settle on Louis, who shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

“He kind of,” Louis started, grimacing, “He kind of did.”

“What?” Liam frowned at him in confusion.

“Zayn called me.” Louis explained.

“He did,” Harry raised an eyebrow at his boy, “And Louis wouldn’t tell me what he said.”

“He said that he was worried about Niall,” Louis shook his head and fiddled with the frayed material on his knee, “That he thought something was up with him.”

“He doesn’t really have the right to talk,” Liam’s frown deepened, “He hasn’t spoken to any of us since he left.”

“Maybe not,” Harry conceded with a tilt of his head, “But if he noticed something wrong with Niall from wherever he is, then how haven’t we?”

“Listen,” Liam raised his eyebrows, “Niall’s fine, we would know if he weren’t. He would tell us.”

“Would he, though?” Harry pursed his lips, “When was the last time any of us saw him, anyway?”

Liam frowned, thinking, while Louis bit his thumb nervously. There was a buzz under one of the pillows on the bed and Louis leapt towards it, pulling it out and clicking at the screen.

“It’s Zayn.” He nibbled on his bottom lip and held the screen out to Harry and Liam.

**I’m in the airport now, about to get on a plane to yours. What hotel are you in?**

“I saw him yesterday.” Liam said instead of responding to the text, “What about you guys?”

“Same.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll tell him the hotel,” Louis decided, “At least he cares, right?”

“We should go check on him.” Harry suggested, wringing his hands together. The others nodded and they set off out the door. Liam didn’t look nervous at all, sure of his conclusion that whatever Niall was going through, he could handle it on his own. Louis looked guilty, having been fed the thought of something happening long before either of the others twigged on. Harry watched them as they walked down the corridor and wished everything could be easier.

“Niall?” He took the responsibility of knocking on the door with a shaking hand. There was no reply. He tried the handle, “Locked.”

“Fuck.” Louis’ eyes widened and he tried to handle too, as if it would change the result.

“Maybe he’s asleep?” Liam suggested, but he didn’t look sure anymore.

“You’d like to think so.” Louis banged on the door manically, “Niall? Open up!” Harry wrapped his hand around the smaller man’s wrists and brought them away from the door.

“I don’t think he’s going to respond.” He said calmly, feeling Louis’ rabbiting heart beat under his fingertips.

“I think I have a key card.” Liam pulled out his wallet and rummaged in it for a few moments before pulling out three key cards. He took the one for Niall’s room and slotted it into the door, pulling it out again. Harry watched the light turn green and his stomach turned, “He might just not be in here.”

“Let’s find out.” Harry shrugged and pushed the door open, already being hit by a smell he couldn’t quite place.

“What is that?” Louis pulled his sleeve down over his hand and brought it up to his nose.

“Blood.” Liam stated with a grimace.

They moved through the room in tense silence, not seeing Niall anywhere near the bed. Harry turned toward the bathroom and set his hand on the handle, looking to the other two who just nodded at him with grim expressions.

He pushed the door open.

“Oh my god.” Liam slaps his hands over his mouth at the sight in front of them.

Niall lays motionless on the floor, blood pooling around him and cuts on his shoulders gaping open, a blade just balancing on the edge of the counter. The movement of his eyes behind his eyelids is the only sign he’s still alive.

“Niall,” Louis drops to the ground, getting blood on his knees and shins, “Niall, come on,” He cradles the boy’s face while Harry stands motionless, completely in shock, “Wake up, lad.”

“Why the hell would he do this?” Liam says through his hands, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Harry watches him, unable to give him comfort, and brings a hand to his face, realising he is already crying.

“I don’t know.” Louis replies, voice shaking, hands still on Niall, “Should we put pressure on him or something? I- he- I don’t-”

“It’s okay.” Harry finally breaks out of his shock and kneels down next to Louis, feeling the blood seep into his trousers, “There are some towels over here.” He grabs some towels that were draped over the side of the bath and presses them to Niall’s shoulders, trying not to gag when blood trickles down his hand.

“It’s not okay.” Louis sobs, holding his finger under Niall’s nose to check he’s breathing, “Niall is bleeding out on the fucking floor and we didn’t even notice anything wrong with him! Zayn fucking told me something was wrong and I ignored him out of _spite_.”

“You didn’t know.” Harry says calmly. Looking after Louis and making sure Niall is okay become his priority, he can sort out his own feelings later.

“I can’t believe he did this.” Liam leans back on the wall, blinking away the wetness in his eyes.

“I think we should be more concerned with keeping him alive rather than why he did it, right now.” Harry presses harder, glad to see that no more blood is reaching the floor.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Louis isn’t looking away from Niall’s pale face

“No,” Harry shakes his head, “If this got in the news it would only make him worse. There should be a first aid kit under the bed.” Louis remains where he is, face almost blank, tear trails down his cheeks, “Lou,” He twitches slightly but doesn’t look at him, “Go get the first aid kit, okay?” Louis gets up, unbothered by the blood stains on his legs and walks into the bedroom. “Liam,” Liam’s shoulders shake, “Come on, go and help Louis. You’re not doing yourself any favours being in here.” Liam gets up without saying anything and leaves the bathroom too, “It’s okay, Niall.” Harry turns to the paling body of one of his best friends, “We’ve got you.”

*

_May 2014_

_Niall knocks on Zayn’s door and presses his ear to it to see if the other boy is in there._

_“I know, mum.” Zayn chuckles and Niall smiles, pushing open the door and raising his eyebrows at the boy sat on the bed, laptop open in front of him. He jumps beside him and grins at the webcam._

_“Hey, momma Zayn!” Niall watches Patricia’s smile widen and feels his cheeks go red. He has become close with Zayn’s family over the last few years, even though he has only met them once or twice in person._

_“Hello, Niall,” Patricia raises an eyebrow, “Are you looking after my boy?”_

_“Always, Patricia.” Niall nods seriously and Zayn groans._

_“I don’t need looking after, I’m 21.” He pouts and Niall pokes his cheek._

_“When you pull that face,” Niall laughs, “You might as well be 5.”_

_“You should have seen him when he was five.” Patricia mocks, “He was the cutest, chubby little thing.”_

_“Mum.”_

_“You’ll have to show me photos some time.” Niall goes along with it, seeing Patricia’s smirk spread at the same time his does._

_“You’re not seeing baby photos,” Zayn insists, “He is not seeing baby photos!”_

_“You’re such a kill joy.” Patricia waves her hand, “How are you, anyway, Niall?”_

_“I’m pretty good,” Niall sees a packet of Haribo next to Zayn and reaches over to take one and throw it in his mouth, “I’ve been writing more songs on this album, which is awesome. It’s more Ed Sheeran and I’m like, yes, score.”_

_“That’s nice,” Patricia smiles, and Zayn watches them with what Niall would like to call fondness, “Have you been eating any healthier?”_

_“Is that even a question?” Zayn raises an eyebrow, like mother like son._

_“Never.” Niall grabs another Haribo, one of the eggs, and chews loudly to prove a point._

_“That’s my boy.” Patricia laughs._

_“Hey,” Zayn puts a hand to his chest, mock offended, “I am your boy. I am your only boy. He is_ not _your boy.”_

_“Can you come for Christmas Eve this year, Niall?” Patricia ignores Zayn’s comment with only the finesse his family can._

_“I’ll see what I can do.” Niall shrugs, “I need to be well fed, I have high standards.”_

_“I always cook for 6, I’ll just have to cook for twelve instead.”_

_“That’s the spirit.” Niall just takes the whole bag and Zayn frowns at him, but doesn’t take them back._

_“Stop stealing my mum.” He complains crossing his arms._

_“_ Our _mum,” Niall corrects teasingly, “Learn to share.”_

_“I didn’t raise you this way.” Patricia purses her lips to hide her smile._

_“Oh my_ god, _you two are just as bad as each other.” Zayn pretends to sulk so Niall smacks a kiss on his cheek._

_“And you love us both.”_

_“God knows why.” Zayn blushes, rubbing his hand over the cheek Niall kissed._

*

There’s blood on his hands. There’s blood on Liam’s hands and it won’t come off, no matter how many times he washes them, no matter how much he scrubs them. He feels stained, dirty, with the blood of one of his best friends.

They patched Niall up, Harry having been in an odd state of calm, his hands steady as he used the thread from the first aid kit to stitch Niall’s wounds. His hands were covered in dark blood, his knees slipped and slid on the tiles drenched in it. Louis wouldn’t stop crying, sobbing into his hands as he sat on the bed, unable to go back in the room where Niall lay. Liam had paced, staring at his hands, at the blood on them from when he got himself up off the ground.

Eventually the bleeding stopped. Niall’s breathing became even and steady but his skin was still deathly pale. He woke up half an hour later, disoriented and confused. He could barely stand, so everyone stayed silent as Harry wiped a wet towel over his shoulders and back. Niall wouldn’t look at any of them, and didn’t say anything.

They put him to bed, and Harry sent Liam and Louis away, taking cleaning the bathroom upon himself. Liam can only imagine what it must’ve been like to wipe away the blood of a friend that you saw nearly die. He will admire Harry so much more after this, appreciate his strength in a whole other light.

 The person in the mirror looks unfamiliar, tired. He couldn’t sleep at all just thinking about the blood pooling around Niall, the sweat on his forehead from just fighting to stay alive.

“Alright, lads?” Niall walks into the bar with a grin on his face, his eyes empty and skin pale. Harry, Louis and Liam are sat on some stools in silence, none of them reply, they just look at him. Liam rubs his hands, “Alright then,” Niall raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t understand why they’re acting so weird. Apart from his laboured movements and pale skin, it’s almost like nothing happened, “I’ll have a pint of Guinness.” He says to the bartender, then goes to lean on it, but grimaces and pulls away again, a hand flying to his shoulder.

“Niall-” Louis starts but Niall holds up a hand, his smile dropping.

“Don’t.” He gives them a warning look before letting his face go carefully blank, “This round’s on me, what are you having?”

“Gin and tonic.” Louis says after a moment, “Rough night.” He adds with a hint of anger and Niall flinches like he’s been hit.

“Gin and tonic.” He repeats to the bartender and sits down. They sit in silence for a moment, unsure what to say. Liam rubs his hands.

“It’s good to be back in London, isn’t it?” Harry breaks the cool atmosphere settling around them, but Liam still feels the chill of cooling blood on his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Niall nods, smiling too wide, “Always wanted to live here if not in Ireland.” The barman sets two glasses in front of them, nodding at Niall in acknowledgement before moving to serve other customers.

“Fuck this.” Louis spits and pushes his stool away, storming out of the room.

“I’ll um,” Harry murmurs. Liam rubs his hands, “I’ll go see if he’s alright.”

“Guess I’ll have that gin and tonic.” Liam tries to say casually, he and Niall being the only two left at the bar.

“I guess you will.” Niall holds his glass up, and Liam touches his to it, wishing he saw the life in Niall’s eyes that hasn’t been there for months.

*

_June 2014_

_“This is the best part, pay attention!” Niall presses pause and waves his hand in front of Zayn’s face, whom is looking at his phone with a small smile._

_“Sorry.” He mumbles, tapping out a reply to whoever he is texting._

_“Who’s more important than me and my film, then?” Niall raises an eyebrow, a funny feeling in his stomach._

_“’s just Perrie.” Niall purses his lips. He hasn’t been able to spend as much time with Zayn because of her, and he isn’t quite sure why he’s so upset about it. It’s normal for friends to spend less time together once one of them gets a girlfriend, but for some reason, Niall doesn’t feel like that should happen with him and Zayn. Perrie has been in Zayn’s life for nearly as long as Niall has, and it hurts more than it should._

_“Oh,” He tries not to sound offended or disappointed, “How’re things with her?”_

_“Alright, I guess,” Zayn shrugs, still tapping on his phone, “She’s a nice girl.”_

_“Such flattery for your girlfriend.” Niall scoffs, feeling a flicker of out of place hope._

_“She’s great,” Zayn looks up at him, searching his face for Niall doesn’t know what. They look at each other for a moment and Niall is the first to break, his gaze falling to his hands, “I love her. Got to if we’re getting married.”_

_“Nice.” Niall swallows, “Love is- uh- nice.”_

_“You’ll find someone, Niall.” Zayn smiles at him, “I know you will.”_

_“Yeah, I’m starting to doubt that.”_

_“Why?” Zayn sits up straighter, phone still clutched in his hand. Niall wants to slap it out of it and onto the floor._

_“No reason.” Niall stares at the phone, sees it light up with a new text and watches Zayn’s hand twitch like he wants to check it but feels like he’s not allowed, “Just seems like fate isn’t on my side,” Zayn nods, looking like he wants to say something but isn’t sure what he can say, “You should reply to your boo.”_

_“Right.” Zayn looks at him for another moment before picking his phone up. Something breaks in Niall then, as he watches Zayn’s thumbs move and a smile form on his face. He knows he and Zayn have always been different, that they aren’t the same as Niall is with Liam, or like Zayn is with Louis. There was always a glimmer of hope too, like Niall could have something more. It feels like it has flickered away, that it has only just sunk in that Zayn is engaged to a girl and isn’t going to return his feelings any time soon._

_“Just watch the fuckin’ movie.” Niall tries to laugh it off, pressing play._

*

One thing that Liam loves about interacting with the fans is seeing how happy they make them. It’s an incredible feeling to be something that helps someone. Fans look to them for guidance, for support and for a distraction or solace. It’s beautiful to be involved in that.

“Thank you, Niall.” Liam hears a fan say to his left, talking to Niall. He’s holding both her hands and smiling at her.

“For what, pet?” He laughs, but Liam can tell it’s not as bright as it could be.

“I’ve had some trouble at home, and it really got to me, I guess.” Her grip seems to tighten on his hands and he doesn’t even flinch, used to it by now, “I started hurting myself and you guys helped me through it. You make me so happy, Niall, and you always see the bright side of things and-” She starts to tear up and Niall just smiles at her, not looking as put together as he was a moment ago, “Just, thank you. So much.”

“Let me tell you a secret,” Niall blinks away tears, “You are so much stronger than you think, and you don’t need anyone else but yourself to make you better. You don’t have to be happy all the time and you sure as hell don’t need to be anything for people at home, because I know that’s what we all try and do.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Niall pulls her into a hug and almost whispers in her hair, just loud enough for Liam to hear, “You’re going to be just fine, I know it.”

Later, Liam is walking with the rest of the boys on stage and turns to Niall last second.

“You should take your own advice, you know.”

“What?” Niall frowns at him, adjusting the strap of his guitar.

“You’re stronger than you think and you don’t have to pretend to be anything.” Liam takes the guitar off the other boy and removes the strap, “You can do without this for one night. You need to heal.”

“Thanks.” Niall takes the guitar back without looking Liam in the eye, “Really.”

“You’re welcome.” Liam nods, looking ahead, trying not to let his emotions overwhelm him. He glances at the boy next to him and takes in the fact that his skin is gaining colour. His shoulders aren’t bleeding, but Liam rubs his hands, still feeling the blood.

“Stop looking at me.” Niall spits before running on stage with the rest of them.

*

_September 2012_

_Niall’s leg shakes under the table and he can’t stop his eyes from flicking around to see who is here. He feels a hand on his thigh and stops it from bouncing, his head whips to see Zayn smiling at him with raised eyebrows._

_“Rhianna is here.” Niall whispers, “Actual, real life Rhianna.”_

_“Yes, she is.” Zayn nods, finding her too and making a ‘not bad’ face, “I’m pretty sure Beyoncé is in here somewhere too.”_

_“Yeah, I saw her on the way in,” Niall shakes his head, “This is fucking me up so bad.”_

_“We’ll be fine.” Zayn shrugs, like they’re not in the middle of a room of about 100 celebrities who they might be competing against for awards. Niall’s leg starts shaking again but Zayn’s hand is still there so he stops immediately after._

_“What if we don’t win?” Niall panics, seeing Harry and Louis deep in some conversation that’s probably about sex despite their innocent smiles, and Liam staring at the glass of wine in front of him like he’s never seen one before._

_“What if we do?” Zayn retorts._

_“I don’t know.” Niall breathes._

_“Exactly,” Zayn says matter of factly, “So it doesn’t matter.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“Here.” Zayn holds his hand out, palm up, under the table, “You know you want it.”_

_Niall rolls his eyes but grabs his hand anyway. Zayn puts his hand on top of Niall’s and cups it, like it’ll give him more comfort. He’s not ashamed to say that it works._

_Stubble suits Zayn, Niall idly thinks, admiring the other boy’s profile. He must not have shaved in a few days and has a slight dusting of stubble over his chin and upper lip, making him look mature and chiselled. He doesn’t see Zayn in a suit very often, but he’s glad he gets to at some point. It’s like a special occasion when he gets the sight of Zayn in a tie and blazer, looking like he’s just rolled off a runway and through a designer clothes catalogue._

_“You’re staring.” Zayn smirks._

_“You wish you were.” Niall scoffs, a blush rising on his cheeks._

_“True.” Zayn tilts his head, and looks at Niall through his eyelashes. He laughs then, full and bodily, almost making him double over._

_“What?” Niall frowns, going to touch his face to see if there’s anything on it._

_“Nothing,” Zayn’s laughter dies down, and Niall looks to see if the others noticed, but Harry and Louis are practically cuddling on their seats and Liam is in conversation with someone a table over who’s a guest of one of the celebrities, “It’s just, you look so funny when you blush.”_

_“I’m not blushing.” Niall insists, feeling his cheeks so even more red._

_“You’re doing it again!” Zayn giggles, poking Niall’s cheek in amusement._

_“I’m doing nothing.” Niall slaps Zayn’s hand away, eyes flicking to the camera nearby, not wanting to end up like Harry and Louis who snapped apart as soon as the cameras appeared._

_“Fine.” Zayn purses his lips, noticing the camera as well. He keeps his hand tight around Niall’s under the table, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of his hand._

_“Sorry for slapping your hand.” Niall murmurs, trying to keep his face neutral._

_“Not your fault.” Zayn raised an eyebrow, “I should’ve seen the camera.”_

_“We shouldn’t have to do this.” Niall sighs._

_“Worse for them,” Zayn nods to Harry and Louis, “They’re actually together.”_

_“Yeah.” Niall sinks in his chair, reminded of what he can never have._

*

“Niall, we just want you to be okay.” Louis insists, trying to get eye contact but Niall just avoids it, turning to walk away again, running away and avoiding like he has been for God knows how long. Louis needs to know, he needs to see how Niall got in the state he’s in now. It’s clawing at his insides to not have been good enough for Niall to go to, even though everyone else could. Could Louis have done something differently? Paid more attention and seen what was going on before it got this bad? “Don’t walk away from this, problems don’t just go away if you ignore them.”

“I was just hoping you would.”

“Niall!” Louis grabs his shoulder to turn him round and immediately regrets it when Niall flinches and pulls away, face like thunder.

“What the fuck are you going to do about it Louis?” Niall hisses under his breath, so close to Louis’ face that he can smell the boy’s rancid breath, “How are you going to make me ‘okay’? Huh?”

“I don’t know.” Louis blanches, hating the fear and anger he sees in Niall’s eyes.

“You don’t know?” Niall blinks, feigning shock, “Louis fucking Tomlinson, know-it-all of the century doesn’t have the answer? Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve spent asking myself that? I’ve been not okay for _years,_ Louis.” He steps back, breathing heavily, heat rising in his cheeks, “First it was being in the band, feeling that weight on my shoulders of being the funny, cocky one. I constantly practised lines, funny quips I could make on stage just to make people like me. Because Niall? That little kid from Ireland with braces and a childish sense of humour? He couldn’t be compared to you guys, with all your natural talent and looks and fucking _everything.”_

“What’s going on?” Harry comes up behind Louis and puts a calming hand on the bottom of his spine. It doesn’t work.

“Just let him.” Louis whispers.

“I’m sorry.” Niall purses his lips, “I’m sorry for being such a stupid bloody fuck up that can’t do anything but be the ‘cute Irish one’.” He looks to the ceiling, blinking away tears, “I thought it was fun at first, you know? Playing a character that wasn’t exactly going to be permanent, then go on about my business playing guitar in pubs.” He laughs bitterly, “Then we go big, we go worldwide, selling out concerts, biggest boyband in the world. That old Niall, he’s redundant. He’s useless in show business. It’s cruel, out there. It’s cruel and just fucking _nasty,_ what they do. What they did to you? It hurt me too, in ways I didn’t think it could. How could I ever have a proper relationship if the truest love I’ve ever seen gets pushed aside for the sake of selling you as objects for 12 year old girls?”

Louis shakes his head, he had no idea how much Niall was affected by all this. He can tell by the hand fisted in his top that Harry didn’t either. His eyes flit to the door, where he can see a leather clad shoulder and a dark skinned neck just outside the doorframe.

“I thought I was fine, you know? I thought I could handle it with a plastered on smile until this clusterfuck was over, then I could go back home and lick my self-inflicted wounds,” Niall shakes his head, “Then Zayn left me. All the promises he made about us being each other’s hope, about always being there for each other. All of it was a worthless _lie._ Your best friend left the band, sure,” He takes in a breath, “But I was in love with him.” He nods once, like confirming his own admission, and Louis feels tears prick his eyes, “I fucking loved him more than I have or _ever_ could love anyone else and it _hurt_ when he deserted us. It hurt like fuck to be nothing more than a friend to him, but not even being that? It broke me. He fucking broke me, and now all I am is a stupid boyband member who cuts himself every night and wishes he could go just that bit deeper and not wake up.”

Zayn puts his head in his hands outside the door.

“Try and tell me how you can make that okay.”

“Niall-” Harry starts but Niall is already gone, out a different door so he doesn’t see Zayn just a few steps away.

They all stay where they are, completely in shock. How did Louis not see _any_ of this coming? He always knew Niall and Zayn were close, maybe he suspected some day they would get together, but he didn’t think that it was affecting Niall in such a big way. All of the lingering glances and blushes should’ve told him a certain story but he ignored it all because he was so absorbed in his own problems. How could Niall think he was anything other than incredible? Louis has always had a great respect for him and how he remembers all the fact and details of where they are, but still manages to be aloof and relaxed in the face of it. Now he sees it was even more impressive because after putting on a mask for all of them, he went home and hated himself for even existing.

It tears Louis apart to think Niall doesn’t care about nearly killing himself.

“This is so fucked up.” Louis wipes his eyes, turning to look at Harry before seeing Zayn finally enter the room. His hair is silver and spiked up into his usual quiff, but there’s shadowing around his jaw. Louis couldn’t really tell how much Zayn had changed just from pictures on the news, but he really has. He looks healthier too, like leaving the band has done him some good.

“Zayn.” Harry nods at him politely, despite the air of awkwardness between them.

“Hey, Harry.” Zayn smiles apologetically, running a hand through his hair.

“I can’t believe this,” Louis shakes his head, still shaken from everything Niall said, “When did he stop valuing himself?”

“If he ever did.” Zayn sighs, shoving his hands in his back pockets.

“Fuck.” Harry rubs a hand down his face, “We need to show him what he’s worth to us.”

“I think-” Zayn clears his throat, “I think I might have an idea for that.”

*

_July 2010_

_Niall cries. He sniffles and he sobs and his face goes bright red because he didn’t get in. His performance wasn’t good enough and Niall isn’t good enough and everything_ sucks _. The cameras being shoved in his face were bad enough, but he said what he could to them and they went away again. What’s really bad is that they’ve put him in sweaty room with a few other people and it smells like stress and terror, never mind the copious amounts of colognes the boys beside him are wearing._

_There are four other boys there. One of them is the guy he recognises as Liam, one of the contestants that auditioned two years ago and didn’t get in. He’s definitely competition. Niall hopes they aren’t competing again. There are two other boys, both wearing beanies, like they accidentally coordinated their outfits. One looks like a goddamn cherub and the other has nice shoes. Niall likes his shoes._

_He recognises the last from the dancing part of bootcamp._

_Zayn._

_He looks nervous, bouncing on his toes with his hands over his mouth. Niall watches him while they wait for someone to tell them what’s going on._

_They’re told to go on the stage and Niall crosses his fingers, hoping they aren’t doing a last minute ‘we want one more of you, sing until we tell you to leave.’_

_“We’ve done some thinking.” Simon says unemotionally, Niall always suspected he was a robot or something, “And we’ve decided that though you aren’t what we want as individuals, you may become great together.” He finally smiles and Niall’s eyes widen, he sees Zayn start to smile too in the corner of his eye, “You’re going through to the next round as a group.”_

_“Oh my god.” Niall murmurs to himself and the boy with the name label Louis jumps into the boy with the name label Harry’s arms. Maybe they know each other? Either way, Niall suspect they’re soulmates._

_Niall’s in a boyband._

_He’s going to make music for a living. He’s going to sing in front of actual crowds and not just his mum. He’s finally going to get something he wants._

_“Oh my god.” He hears Zayn breathe._

_“We’re in a band!” Niall shouts, jumping up and down, “Hey,” He waggles his eyebrows at Zayn, “Wanna do what they’re doing?” He mimes jumping with a gleeful grin._

_“I would.” Zayn laughs slightly manically, “But I’m really weak.”_

_“Ah yes,” Niall nods, “Noodle arms, perfect for ballroom dancing.”_

_“Right.” Zayn rolls his eyes but he’s smiling so wide it looks almost painful._

_“Don’t be mean to your new_ bandmate, _eh?” Niall elbows him in the side teasingly._

_“God knows how I’ll cope with you.”_

_“You’ll love me eventually.”_

*

There’s damp in the corner. Everything is falling apart. Zayn broke up with Perrie because it was unfair to string her along when she wasn’t what he truly wanted, Louis barely tolerates his presence, Harry doesn’t know what to feel and he hasn’t even had a chance to see Liam yet. Then there’s Niall.

Zayn taps his cigarette on the window pane, letting out a heavy sigh, hoping it will take this weight off his shoulders. Niall thinks he’s worthless without his happiness, he has convinced himself that his smile is his only redeeming quality. It’s hard to believe, Zayn thinks as he brings the ‘cancer stick’ as his mum calls it to his lips, that Niall could think of himself as anything other than extraordinary.

Whenever the boy smiles, it’s like the sun itself is in the room, warming everything and everyone in its glow. But there’s also the way Niall’s brow creases when he concentrates, scribbling on a page or thumbing at the strings on his guitar. There’s the smug way he raises his eyebrow when he’s proved you wrong, like he could easily argue all day without breaking.

There’s his heart. Niall’s heart glows, even in the darkest of times, and gives Zayn something to grasp onto when everything else seems to be crumbling. It’s sad to see that glow dimming.

Niall said he loved him with such disgust and hate that it makes Zayn want to drown in the fumes that surround him.

There’s damp in the corner, and Zayn thinks the owners of this hotel will probably just paint over it. The damp will still be there, but it could be unnoticeable to a passing pair of eyes. It’s like what Niall has done, painted over his problems with a smile, hoping no one will look close enough to see that it is just paint. A thin layer of paint that could easily scrape away and reveal the darkness underneath.

But Niall isn’t a wall, something that can’t feel the spreading hurt, he’s living and breathing and _hurting._

There’s a bitter twist to Zayn’s mouth when he stubs out his cigarette and grabs his journal from the desk, hoping this will make Niall see how wrong he is about his worth.

 

As Niall doesn’t know he’s here, Zayn has to wait in the back room until it’s his turn. He leans against the wall and watches staff members bustle about, completely ignoring his presence as if he isn’t an ex-member of the biggest boyband in the world. One of them even jostles him slightly, and he finds he doesn’t mind. He kind of likes going unnoticed and wonders if he will ever have that again.

There’s a certain feeling Zayn gets when he’s near a church, even this crappy hotel one. He feels like he’s being watched. That feeling could come from the fact that he went to church with one of his friends in high school and got many scathing and disapproving looks from all of the locals. It was a very white neighbourhood, and Zayn looks very, well, not white.

He ran his hands over the pews and felt like he was intruding on something as he and his friend made their way to the front, so they could talk to the priest about holding the school’s nativity play there. That feeling you get when you’re underdressed at a fancy get together, that’s the feeling Zayn had then. He was in his ratty school uniform, shirt untucked, and tie loose and short, when everyone else was wearing their nice white blouses and crisp suits.

That could be the reason he feels watched right now, because he never really felt like going to church after one of the women there practically hissed at him as they were leaving. He also likes to think it’s because there _is_ someone up there looking after them all. Whether it’s God, or Allah, or any other deity people happen to believe in, it’s a nice thought to have that there could always be someone on your side no matter how alone you are.

The church behind him is pristine, but small. The windows aren’t stain glass and the pews are cheap wood, but it feels looked after, with clean, beige carpets and fine curtains that let beams of sunlight into the barren space. Zayn rubs his hands over his arms and rolls his eyes at himself. Why he thought it was a good idea to leave his jacket in his hotel room, he has no idea. Goosebumps rise over his skin and he watches them for a moment, still confused as to why that’s a bodily reaction to cold.

Then he hears the doors open on the other side of the room he is loitering in front of. He peers his head round so he isn’t seen, and watches as Louis walks in confidently, Harry behind him, looking less confident and more scared, Niall after, skittish, and Liam at the back, as if there to stop Niall from running away. Zayn purses his lips and reminds himself that Niall has changed, that it might be something he would do now.

Niall doesn’t look happy when he sees where they are.

“A church.” He says, bored, “Praying for my soul?”

“Not exactly” Louis just looks at him and gestures to the chair that Zayn put at the front of the room earlier. Niall looks at it with distaste, but sits down anyway, obviously still gaging as to whether this is a situation he wants to be in or not.

Zayn bites his lip as he watches the other boys silently go and sit down in other pews. He can see Harry blinking rapidly, as if to fend of tears, looking at the ceiling in the third pew back. Louis would look relatively calm if Zayn didn’t know him better, but he does and can see the tension in his shoulders and the twist of his mouth where he is sat at the front. Liam is the only one on the left of the room, rolling his shoulders to try and get rid of the tension, Zayn guesses, and eyes downcast and nervous.

He can only see Niall’s back, but he can see his leg shaking and wishes he could run over and hold his hand there to calm him down, like they always used to.

But he has to wait his turn.

Louis is first, heaving a breath and standing up, fishing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. Zayn finds himself running a thumb over his journal, thinking about what is written inside, and casts a glance to Niall to see how he is reacting.

When Louis reaches the front of the room, he faces away from Niall and Zayn and addresses the boys instead, unfolding the paper slowly and carefully.

“This is so stupid.” Niall says petulantly, crossing his arms, clearly unsure of the situation. As Zayn watches the back of his neck go read, he really hopes they’re doing the right thing.

“We are gathered here today,” Louis starts, voice slightly high and cracked. He clears his throat and starts again, “We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of our dear friend and colleague, Niall James Horan.” Niall’s head snaps down from where he was staring at the ceiling and he turns to Louis instead, shocked. “He was a great friend,” Louis shuffles in his place, reading, “And a great brother. I always admired how much he cared about everything, and how he always knew just what to say when I was feeling down or angry. I remember when we first started,” He huffs a sad laugh, “He announced he liked my shoes and that was that, I loved him as if he were one of me own. I never dreamt that he would get so low, believing himself to be worthless and done for, when he is one of the greatest people I could ever hope to know. I’ll never forget the times we laughed together, and cried together, admittedly, but it will always be with a deep sadness. I didn’t see this coming, and I wish we could have done something sooner.” Louis’ hand moves to wipe his eyes, “He will be sorely missed by me and my family, as they started to think of him as the brother they chose instead of the one they were stuck with.”

The room falls silent. Niall is still.

Zayn wonders if he knows what this is yet, and whether he is going to run.

Louis moves quietly back to his seat and sits down, wiping his eyes and breathing slowly to pull himself together, just as Liam rises from his, nothing in hand.

“I, uh-” He starts, facing away from Niall again and rubbing a hand over his bicep, “I thought I’d do this freestyle, I guess. I never liked writing things down in a second that meant so much to me, and that’s what Niall is. _Was.”_   He pauses at the correction, whether he’s trying to let it sink in or whether it has only just sunk in to him, Zayn doesn’t know, “If I tried to put Niall into words, he would become ink on paper and not what he really was, which was- well- I can’t describe it.” He laughs slightly, but no one else does, Zayn feels like he can hear the dust making its way around the room, “I always thought we would be friends forever, on our rocking chairs outside the home, whining about ‘kids these days’ and how stupid we used to be.” He sighs, “It breaks my heart to know that will never happen, now that he’s gone.”

There’s a sniffle, and Zayn isn’t sure who it’s coming from, or even if it’s himself. The room remains still as Liam returns to his place, and Niall shuffles in his seat, making the scraping of his denim against the wood the only sound in the place apart from their breathing.

Harry is supposed to be next, but he seems to still be composing himself, and how Zayn wants to go in and comfort him but he knows it won’t be welcomed. Louis turns to him and reaches a hand out, touching the one Harry is resting on the pew in front of him, the other covering his face. As Louis mutters encouragement to him, Zayn looks at Niall again to see him watching the interaction in silence, his posture lazy and his neck red.

Eventually Harry stands up, making his way to the front of the room without even looking at Niall, which must take some strength because Zayn hasn’t been able to look away.

“Niall was my best friend in this band.” He starts, his shoulders hunched as he looks at his paper, “He was the only one who felt the same as me, who found the childlike wonder in everything we did no matter how hard times became.” He runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat before continuing, “He was the other half to my fun loving duo that valued the rules, unlike some,” Harry’s tone turns sarcastic and Zayn smiles, knowing about Liam and Louis’ misbehaviour lately, “We always smiled together, bonding over cute dog videos and making music. Well, mostly cute dog videos.” The humour just makes them all smile sadly rather than laugh, “Then he started to smile less, his mind wondering more and his heart darkening. I thought it was just growing up and that he was moving on without me, but I should have seen that it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all.” Harry coughs again, then wipes at his eyes, “Sorry-” He carries on, “I’ll miss him more as each day passes, and will forever regret that we didn’t get there sooner.”

Zayn knows about that night in the bathroom. He knows Harry took the brunt of it and cared for Niall in the aftermath, but he still can’t wrap his head around what could’ve happened if the boys didn’t get there in time.

Niall was near dead when they found him, so just a few minutes difference could have cost him his life. It would be impossible to look Maura in the eye if the worst had happened, knowing he was the one that caused the damn to break.

This whole thing is to show Niall what would have happened, had he died. If he thinks he is worthless then Zayn will die trying to prove that he is worth more than the world.

He takes a deep breath.

It’s his turn.

*

_May 2013_

_“You think this’ll take it’s tole on us?” Niall whispers into the dark, and Zayn grumbles in his sleep, “Like, make us insane.”_

_“You’re already insane.” Zayn mutters into his pillow, trying to call back that lovely dream about pancakes he was having._

_“No, like seriously,” Niall’s tone loses its humour and Zayn bothers to listen properly, “If I ever start acting crazy, just give me a smack in the head, yeah?”_

_“I think you’ll need more than a smack in the head.” Zayn rolls over and smiles at Niall in the bunk opposite him, “Now go to sleep.”_

_“Don’t actually hurt me,” Niall mutters,, “Just, like, metaphorically hurt me.”_

_“Metaphorically hurt you if you go insane,” Zayn confirms, “Got it.”_

*

Niall is still looking at the floor, as if analysing the bland carpet for imperfections. As Zayn nears his back, he wishes it hadn’t got to this point. All the times Niall told him he wasn’t okay, all the times he said it was getting too much, Zayn assumed he was going to get over it and be fine. He should have known it wasn’t that simple.

He does the same as the other boys and doesn’t look at Niall once he’s in front of him, but he hears the sharp intake of breath when he realises Zayn’s here. They haven’t texted or called each other in months, haven’t spoken in person for even longer, so this will be the first thing Niall hears him say for a long time. He grips his journal between his hands, gently finding the right page and grimacing at how messy and panicked his handwriting is.

“I remember when I first met Niall,” He starts, his voice slow and cracked from chain-smoking earlier, “He was overconfident, cocky, red cheeked and hopeful. I admired him right from the start, totally embarrassed to dance in front of everyone while he did the funky chicken in the middle of the room,” He laughs slightly at the memory, Niall’s cheeky grin clear in his mind, “I wasn’t the only one immediately enamoured by him,” His thumbs slip slightly on the pages, his hands shaking, “It seemed like everyone wanted to be near him and hear what he had to say. I’m so proud to be able to say that I knew him personally, intimately, and that he knew me,” Zayn purses his lips and looks up at the other boys, who are all looking at him with either sad smiles or wet eyes, “I can’t put into words how much he means- _meant_ to me. He was always by my side, cheering me on or holding my hand when I was nervous. All the times I put my hand on his knee or offered him my hand in support, I needed it too. I needed to look after him because it made me feel better too,” He clears his throat, “I don’t know when that stopped, and I hate myself more and more every time I think about how I left him in the middle of whatever he was going through. We were a team and I left without even looking back.” It’s so hard not to look at Niall as he reads, but he knows this is what he needs.

“He wasn’t just a friend to me.” Zayn admits, resolutely looking at his page and not anyone else, “As time went on of us being closer than I was with anyone else, I couldn’t help but see him in a different way and it _hurt._ Niall was so careless with his feelings, so giving to everyone, I didn’t see how I was special to him. I met Perrie, settled and I was fine.” He takes in a breath and finally looks up, seeing the boys wiping their eyes. He doesn’t notice himself crying until a tear hits the page below him. He looks at it for a moment, shocked, then dabs at his eyes with the back of his hand.  “But I’m not fine, and Perrie doesn’t fill that hole,” Zayn pauses, and can’t help but look back, scrapping the rest of his speech to look over his shoulder at Niall, whose cheeks are red but his eyes are dry. _Our hearts intertwined are as pure as the richest gold_. It was about Niall. It was always Niall, “I love you too.”

The silence that follows seems endless. Zayn has looked away from Niall because he can’t stand to see that blank expression, and none of the other boys move or speak. Eventually he moves to walk out, knowing Niall won’t process anything while they’re all in here, watching him.

Zayn makes his way to the front of the room, where the exit will lead to the street. He doesn’t know if the boys follow him and he doesn’t care. Niall is still in there and Zayn would give anything to have the strength to run back and hug the boy, then never let him go. His heart aches for him and it’s hard to close the door behind everyone when they file out.

“So,” Liam smacks his lips together, “Do you think he got the message?”

“I certainly did.” Harry widens his eyes and blinks rapidly, like he does when he’s tired, “That was so emotional.”

“I would give you a hug,” Louis holds his hands out in front of him, “But my hands are numb.”

“That’s just weird.” Harry comments.

“I know,” Louis nods, “I had no idea emotions did that to me.”

“Should we go check on him?” Zayn hasn’t looked away from the door since they left and wonders what is going through Niall’s head right now.

“I’ll do it.” Liam steps forward and slips into the church, leaving Zayn, Harry and Louis watching the large wooden door in anticipation.

“What if he-”

Louis’ train of thought is interrupted by Liam emerging again.

“He’s gone.”

“Crap.” Zayn runs a hand through his hair, “I knew this would be too much for him.”

“Maybe it wasn’t,” Harry suggests with a shrug, “Maybe he just needs time to process it and he’ll come back.”

“Niall’s a stubborn prick,” Zayn scoffs, “If he wants to disappear we won’t find him. Remember the second tour? Louis annoyed him so much that we couldn’t find him for 24 hours.”

“So should we wait 24 hours before we look?” Louis asks.

“No!” Zayn, Harry and Liam say.

“Is there anywhere he would go?” Liam ponders out loud.

“Niall’s smart,” Zayn joins him, “If he wanted to go somewhere he wouldn’t be found he’d just wander until a cubby hold came along.”

“What if he does want to be found?” Harry fiddles with the rings on his left hand, and all their eyes fall on Zayn.

“By me?” Zayn snorts, “No way. He hates me right now.”

“No he doesn’t.” Liam argues with a small, sad smile, “He could never hate you.”

“But where would he go?” Zayn can’t think, too busy worrying about what Niall will do to himself if he’s on his own too long.

“I guess we were hoping you’d know that.” Louis purses his lips.

“Liam, what’s that?” Harry points to a piece of paper clutched in Liam’s grasp.

“It was on the floor near his chair.” Liam’s brow furrows, “I don’t like littering.”

“Give me it.” Zayn holds out his hand and Liam hands him the paper. He unfolds it and looks at the rushed word across it in Niall’s hand writing.

“What does it mean?” Liam looks over his shoulder and Zayn smiles.

“I know where he is.”

*

_November 2014_

_The bus brings Zayn some peace now. In the hectic schedule of One Direction, there isn’t much space for downtime, so sleeping on the bus is a true blessing when things are stressful._

_He’s nearly asleep when he hears a shaky breath from the bunk below him. Niall takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, shakenly. Sleep suddenly slips away from Zayn and he climbs down so his bare feet touch the cold, lino floor._

_“Niall?” He whispers, pulling back the curtain on the boy’s bunk. He doesn’t get a reply, simply a shake in Niall’s shoulders, “I’m coming in, mate.” Zayn crawls in behind Niall, pulling him into his chest. They haven’t cuddled in a bed before, so Zayn may be crossing a line, but he doesn’t care. Niall is less than okay and that is not alright with Zayn._

_“I’m fine.” Niall tries to say through tears, not convincing anyone._

_“No you’re not.”_

_“I know.” Niall sighs, rolling over so he’s facing Zayn in the small space available to them. It’s hard to see the boy, only his silhouette visible. Even then, Zayn has to swallow back telling him he’s beautiful when he cries._

_“What’s wrong, babe?”_

_“It’s getting a little overwhelming.”_

_“What is?”_

_“Everything.” Niall swallows, like he’s holding something back, “There’s so much going on at the same time. It’s like we were thrown in the deep end and never taught to swim.”_

_“We were.” Zayn tries to read Niall’s shadowed face, wondering if he should tell him what he’s been thinking about, “We still are.”_

_“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘just keep swimming’ or something shit like that?” Niall breathes a laugh, quiet so the boys don’t hear and wake up._

_“Didn’t you say we weren’t taught how to swim?” Zayn raises an eyebrow that he hopes Niall will see._

_“Shut up,” Niall scoffs, and Zayn feels his breath on his cheeks, “I don’t know what to do.”_

_Zayn stays silent for a while, contemplating what he’s about to say, and if he should say it._

_“Leave with me.” It eventually just slips out and Zayn bites his tongue, wishing he hasn’t said anything._

_“Leave?” Niall says, shocked, “As in, leave the band?”_

_“Yeah,” Zayn starts speaking quickly so Niall can’t cut him off, “Hear me out. We can hang out together, use our money to do fun stuff, write for people, and possibly have solo careers. But we can do it on_ our _terms, without this stupid contract and stupid schedule,” He sighs, “We could finally have some freedom.”_

_“You’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Niall sniffs._

_“A bit.”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“I thought you’d be mad.”_

_“I’m not.” Niall says, but his eyes say something different, “I’m not leaving.”_

_“Okay.”_

_They fall into silence again, and Zayn can’t help but feel unwelcome, like he has said something he shouldn’t have. He starts to climb out, but a hand wraps around his wrist._

_“Stay.” Niall murmurs, biting his lip, half asleep. Zayn stands there, looking at the boy in front of him with drool on the side of his face and a loose hand on his arm and wonders when he became so selfish._

_“Okay.” He climbs back in and pulls Niall into his arms, appreciating him while he has him._

_“Please stay.” Niall whispers before falling asleep._

_“I promise.”_

_Zayn has to screw his eyes shut to will the guilt away._

*

Niall is exactly where Zayn thought he would be, sat under the word that he always thought defined them. Serendipity.

His sleeves are pulled over his hands and he’s staring at his feet, waiting for Zayn or not he doesn’t know. Slowly, Zayn makes his way over and slides down the wall to sit beside him. He knows he shouldn’t start this conversation. It’s Niall’s turn to speak, and it has been for a long time without him and the other boys knowing.

“You left.”

Zayn’s gaze drops to the gravel by their feet.

“I did.”

“You promised we were in this together, you promised you would stay,” Niall doesn’t sound angry, but Zayn deserves his anger, “But you left.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Zayn says quietly, knowing it’s not good enough, knowing the words just fall to the ground with an empty thud as soon as he says them.

“You could have done _anything_ ,” Niall looks serene when Zayn glances at him, leaning his head back against the cold brick wall, “As long as you didn’t leave.”

“I’m selfish.”

“I know.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“More than.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“Still trying to decide if that’s good enough.” Niall sighs, “Did you mean what you said?”

“Every word.”

“Five years, Zayn.” Niall rubs a hand over his face, “I spent five years trying to snap myself out of being in love with you because I just _knew_ I didn’t have a chance. Then you promised you’d stay with me, and left, making me doubt we were even friends. Now suddenly you’re back, saying you’re sorry and that you love me too,” Niall finally looks at him, with a fire in his eyes Zayn can’t place, “Should I be okay with that?”

“No.”

“No,” Niall laughs, “But I am. I am and I want to hate you. I want to hate you more than anything but for whatever reason you could do _anything_ to me and I’d forgive you.”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t,” Niall bites his lip, his mask finally cracking, “But you have it, so what are you going to do with it?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, grow some balls, Malik.” Niall glares at him, “You’re brave enough to say you want me at a fake fucking funeral but you can’t say it to me when we’re alone?”

“I don’t want you to forgive me, Niall.” Zayn crosses his legs staring in front of them at the railings that lead to a train track, “I want you to shout at me, hate me, hit me.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Niall shakes his head, back to the perfect picture of calm.

“Why not?” Zayn looks at him, at a loss, “It’s the least I deserve.”

“Because there’s this fucking _thing_ in my head, Zayn,” Niall pushes through gritted teeth, “And it controls how I think and how I feel. Sometimes I’m angry. God, I have been so mad at you for what you did and what has happened to me, but right now? Right now it’s telling me to feel nothing.” Niall rubs a fist over his eye, “And it has been for days now. I don’t know how to stop it, I don’t know how to make myself feel again. I _hate_ it. I despise the fact that I can’t even keep myself in check in fucking meetings because I feel too much and nothing at all at the same and it’s my _fault._ Something in me is _wrong_ and whatever it is makes me hate myself as well as everything around me.” He takes in a shaky breath, “I can’t talk to people about it because it’s stupid and I’m being irrational so I take it out on myself and that is _my choice._ This fake funeral thing was an overreaction.”

“Overreaction?” Zayn moves closer to the other boy, feeling the cold biting at his bare arms, “Niall, you almost died. Do you have any idea what would happen if you had? The world would fall apart.”

“No it wouldn’t.”

“My world would,” Zayn tries to break through whatever cloud is shrouding Niall’s thoughts, “Harry’s world would, and Louis’, and Liam’s. All the fans? They’d be wrecks if you left us. Even then, it’s not about us. It’s about _you._ You have so much ahead of you, so much you can accomplish once this is over. Louis told me you guys are negotiating the contract, trying to get out of it. Just imagine what you could do after that?” He licks his lips, watching Niall’s face for some sort of reaction, “Things are hard, but you have help, you can _get help._ ”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to decide anything yet,” Zayn purses his lips, “But stay with me. Just stay, okay?”

“Why should I?” Niall looks at him blankly, “You didn’t.”

“Because you can’t come back from death.”

Niall stays silent, biting his lip and staring at Zayn like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“Are you going to stay this time?”

“I am never leaving your side again,” Zayn hesitantly places his hand on Niall’s leg, stopping it from bouncing nervously, “I love you.”

“I fucking love you too, you twat.”

Zayn laughs before leaning in to capture Niall’s lips with his own.

“Hey,” Niall says when he pulls away and points at the graffiti above them, “What does it mean? ‘Serendipity’.”

“Happy coincidences,” Zayn grins, “Us.”

*

_July 2010_

_Zayn hates dancing. He’s stood off to the side as the rest of the boys practise the routine and would like to say he isn’t sulking, but in reality, he is definitely sulking._

_“Hey,” One of the boys walks up to him with bright blond hair, a strong Irish accent and a brace filled grin, “Why aren’t you dancin’?”_

_“I don’t dance.”_

_“Hello,” The boy waves, his blue eyes glinting, “I’m Niall and I’m a danceaholic.”_

_“Hello Niall.” Zayn frowns, confused as to what is going on._

_“Okay,” Niall nods, his lips pursed, “Now you do it.”_

_“Hello,” Zayn starts nervously, “I’m Zayn, and I’m a dance-uh-danceaphobic.”_

_“Nice,” Niall laughs and ruffles his hand through his hair, “I recommend up close and personal therapy. Throwing you in the deep end.”_

_“Uh- What?”_

_“Dance with me, dumb-dumb!” Niall pulls him into the middle of the room, moving backwards, holding both of Zayn’s hands._

_“I’m not sure-”_

_“Ssshh,” Niall closes his eyes and rolls his hips dramatically, “Just feel the music.”_

_“Okay.” Zayn finds himself agreeing with a small smile._

_As Zayn dances with the boy in front of him, doing the moves completely wrong but laughing anyway, he wonders why the boy’s smile is so enchanting._

_As Niall holds Zayn’s hand and wiggles his hips, he wonders if he will ever see those chocolatey brown eyes again after they’re kicked out of boot camp for being a shit dancer._

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I've been working on this one for a while, felt like being a bit gritty and working with tenses and how I can fit flashbacks in and everything :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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